


you're mr reckless (and i'm defenceless)

by Suicix



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ambiguous Relationships, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-29
Updated: 2015-09-29
Packaged: 2018-04-23 21:43:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4893388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suicix/pseuds/Suicix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drew flits in and out of Wade’s life with all the ease of a simple breeze in the springtime, but also with the full force of a hurricane. For once, Wade would like it if he stayed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you're mr reckless (and i'm defenceless)

**Author's Note:**

> Title is a slightly bastardised lyric from "Reckless" by You Me At Six, which I was originally going to use for a much longer fic which will never see the light of day. I don't think I have anything else to say here this time, but getting to publish a work with my otp in is always good.

Drew flits in and out of Wade’s life with all the ease of a simple breeze in the springtime, but also with the full force of a hurricane, leaving a wreck behind him every time he goes. Well. Maybe that’s just Wade being over-dramatic about it (as he’s been told by friends on several occasions), but it certainly feels like he’s left trying to scavenge the pieces of himself from some huge pile of debris each time Drew passes through on the way to some new, apparently exciting city that he’s probably going to get bored of within a month.

The worst thing about it is that they never even _were_. They’re friends, and that’s great, but anything more than that was always an almost. It still _is_ an almost, if Wade lets himself believe it. He usually wouldn’t, would usually have given up years ago because _what’s the point?_ , but Drew is... he’s something. He’s an electric laugh, a dozen animated tales of his travelling. He’s a magnetic pull that’s strong enough to turn Wade’s entire world on its axis every time he so much as floats into Wade’s atmosphere. Normally, Drew crashes in. Wade doesn’t mind. He’d drop everything anyway, whether Drew actually knocked it away from him or not.

He wonders if Drew’s ever noticed. If he’s ever realised that this is between them, that it’s _there_ and just about crushing Wade whenever they meet. He always seems oblivious whenever it comes to the two of them; he probably sees so many people in the few days he’s back here that it’s all a whirlwind to him, all a great cyclone of greetings and spiralling off the same few stories over and over again.

Drew never actually contacts him, apparently never actually contacts anyone who knows him in the city, but Wade knows where to find him when he comes back. Knows from other people’s seemingly endless Facebook posts that Drew never replies to. Too bad that social media doesn’t let Drew be as much of the mystery that he wants to be. Or maybe he likes the attention. Wade can’t be sure.

When Wade goes to find Drew at the usual bar, he does it alone. He doesn’t need any of his friends knowing that he’s still all over Drew after God only knows how long, as much as he tries to deny it, tries to insist that they’re only friends (not a lie), that he doesn’t feel anything more than that (a definite lie).

Drew’s sitting where he normally does – an expected bit of routine even for someone so spontaneous, someone just on the edge of reckless – and, a little surprisingly, also alone. He could be waiting for someone, but honestly: whatever to that. They’re friends. They know each other. They wind up seeing each other whenever Drew’s around.

“So you’re back,” Wade says by way of greeting him. He should probably build on that, but it’s all he can muster right now.

“I am.” Drew smiles up at Wade from his seat, just about blazing. “You been keeping well over here? Hardly seen anyone yet. Still my first night back. Well. Kind of. Considering I arrived past four this morning and fell asleep almost immediately, maybe that’s only technically true, but whatever.”

“Just passing through again, then? Where are you on the way to now?”

Drew gives a non-committal hum. Most of his life could probably be summed up in that sound, Wade thinks: just skirting the edges of everything he finds the slightest bit interesting for a second, never stopping, never even skidding to a halt for anywhere or anything.

“Nowhere in particular. Need to find somewhere that catches me, aye? Somewhere that – somewhere that pulls me in.”

_You pull me right in_ , Wade thinks, but that’s best kept to himself. Drew’s seemed blind to it. Why wreck a perfectly decent friendship (albeit one that he only really gets for brief flashes at a time and then haunts him in the interludes) for the impossible?

“Right. You meeting anyone here tonight?”

Drew shrugs.

“Well. I wasn’t, not like, anything properly planned, but... but you ended up here anyway.”

“Oh?” Finally – too late, perhaps – Wade takes the seat next to him.

“Aye. I... I kind of expected it.” His smile changes: a little mysterious, almost secretive. “I also expect that the friends I’m staying with would prefer it if I wasn’t taking up half the space on their living room floor for... for at least tonight,” he continues. His words are light, not quite teasing, but... but there’s definitely _something_ and Wade feels like he must be making it up because _it sounds like everything he wants_. Or, maybe not everything. But _something_ , yeah, and... well: something is more than nothing, at least.

Wade just raises his eyebrows. He doesn’t really want to speak and have it all come undone in a matter of seconds if he is actually imagining, if this is some kind of impossible audio hallucination. Drew smirks at him, shaking his head.

“I’m talking about your bed, mate. Unless you’re so wrapped up in whatever little web of unrequited love you try to weave when I’m away that you don’t–”

“Oh,” Wade interrupts, unable to help himself because he’s just that much taken aback. “So... so you noticed that.”

“Think anyone could notice it from five thousand fucking miles away,” Drew laughs, and he takes Wade’s hand in his own to squeeze it. “Do you want to?”

“Barely been here fifteen minutes and you’re already trying to have me out of here.” Wade pauses, frowns, freezes. Looks down at where Drew’s hand is clasped in his. “Wait a second. And you’re already trying to have me out of here. Back to mine. For... for sex. At least, that’s what it sounds like.”

Drew smiles, the look in his eyes impossible, his thumb stroking Wade’s hand. “Can’t say that’s not what I’m doing. If you want to, anyway.”

“If _I_ want to? Thought you said anyone could see that I would.”

“I always wondered whether that actually included you. Wondered if that’s why you never brought it up. Because you never even knew.”

Wade laughs as if the very idea of that is absurd, because, well – to him, it is.

“Oh, I knew all right. Agonised over it. But if this is how you felt, how come you never said anything? You’re the big risk taker here.”

“You were never really a risk, though. You were always... you were always pretty much set in stone.”

_Ah_.

“Were you scared of that?” Wade asks, voice slightly hushed.

There’s a pause.

“I think – I think I was. Still am. Maybe that’s what’s risky about it. For me, anyway. I want it, though. Want you. Want you to anchor me, but still know when to reel it in and let me go. But I want a constant. I think so, anyway. And how better to find out if I do than to try it?”

That’s true, Wade supposes. It’s never really been his way of thinking, but of course it makes sense that it’s Drew’s.

“So this is you trying us out,” Wade says, slow, just in case he’s missed something. In case it’s not really what Drew’s asking for.

“If you’ll let me,” Drew tells him, and he squeezes Wade’s hand again.

Wade will let him. Wade would let Drew tear him down and into something totally unsalvageable if it meant he could have this for even just a moment.

He doesn’t truly know if he’s just having Drew for the night or for the rest of the time he’s here or if it will be him that Drew comes back to when he’s done with whatever the fuck it is he does wherever the fuck it is he does it. Wade decides he doesn’t care – he can’t afford to, after all. He’s got at least part of what he wants, and perhaps the best way to go about it is to be more like Drew.

He takes a chance at it on the way back, when they’re outside his building and he’s scrabbling around in a pocket for his keys. Drew’s just stood there, leaning against the wall with some unreadable expression on his face as he watches. Amused, Wade thinks. Endeared, perhaps. Whatever it is, Wade can’t lie: he’s still so astounded by the fact that this is even happening, that Drew would look at him like this, that he doesn’t really care.

Once the keys have finally found their way into Wade’s hand, Drew cocks his head towards the door, a motion to _go on, then_ , but instead Wade closes the gap between them, gets close enough that Drew really does have his back to the wall, and–

And he’s back to himself again, back to hesitant again, not stepping forward, not getting any closer. Not yet.

“Can I?” he asks, because he really doesn’t need to build any more on that to get his question across.

Drew shrugs at him, an indefinite action though his smirk says otherwise. As do his words.

“Be my guest.”

Wade leans in, lets one hand cup Drew’s face, takes another fraction of a second to let himself just process this some more, and kisses him. Drew seems to wilt back against the wall for a moment (not necessarily _surprised_ because he was expecting it, but a little taken aback by the force, perhaps – by the fire), but then he’s confident: just as Wade thought, imagined, _knew_ he would be.

Maybe some storms are worth the chase.


End file.
